


Hope and Fear Set Free

by Mara



Category: S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25038160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: Yutong is incredibly tired of sitting next to hospital beds, watching Zhan Yao sleep.
Relationships: Bái Yùtáng/Zhǎn Zhāo
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116





	Hope and Fear Set Free

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know it’s hardly the most unrealistic thing in the show, but it bugged me. Thanks to UndeadRobins for letting me talk about this at her :D

_The rhythmic thud of the pole hitting Zhan Yao was overwhelming, even as Bai Yutong screamed, pleaded, even demanded that Lan Chenglin hit him instead._

_He was helpless, entrapped by his own handcuffs, unable to do anything except watch, desperate and enraged._

_The blows continued to Zhan Yao’s abdomen, delivered by someone who knew what they were doing. Yutong yanked at his cuffed hands until he could feel blood dripping down his wrists, but he couldn’t do anything as Zhan Yao’s body contorted, trying to not react to each slam of the wood against him._

_Blood was dripping out of Zhan Yao’s mouth, then—_

_His phone was ringing. How could he hear his phone? Why would he have brought his phone on an operation like this?_

Yutong jerked awake, grabbing his phone off the table next to Zhan Yao’s hospital bed. “Hello,” he barked into it.

“Bai sir, we have more information.”

“Go.”

Half his mind engaged in orders for Ma Han, Yutong stared at Zhan Yao’s still unconscious face and waited for him to wake up.

The rest of the team had come and gone, trying to convince him to leave the hospital long enough to change clothes and get something to eat. He sent them back to the office with harsh words that he could only hope they knew he didn’t mean. 

He should have known that wasn’t the last attack vector, but he was tired enough to be surprised when he looked up to find Big Ding and Little Ding holding out a change of clothes from his apartment and a box of takeout.

"Your sister sent us—" 

"To bring you food—" 

"While you wait for your boyfriend—" 

"To wake up." 

"He's not...oh never mind." Rubbing his face, Yutong decided there wasn’t enough energy in the world for this argument. The twins and his sister seemed to have a second sense about these things and it wasn’t worth a debate about whether occasional sex equaled a boyfriend.

He ate the food they brought obediently while waiting for Zhan Yao to wake up. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been sitting there or how long since his first conversation with the doctor, whose name he’d immediately forgotten.

“The abdomen is a relatively unprotected area,” the doctor had said when Yutong was finally allowed into the room, “susceptible to trauma such as contusions, lacerations, puncture wounds, and herniations.”

Yutong nodded, although the words seemed to flow right past him.

“The sonogram showed damage to and bleeding from the liver.” Yutong’s face must have shown a reaction to that, because the doctor hurried on. “Injuries to solid organs, such as the liver and spleen, often heal on their own, but people with abdominal organ injury must be examined every few hours to ensure that bleeding stops and symptoms don’t worsen.”

Yutong nodded again. 

“Your partner will recover,” the doctor said gently. “He received medical attention in plenty of time.”

He nodded, feeling like a bobble-headed doll. 

The doctor glanced at Zhan Yao. “Given the pain he’s likely to have, it’s best to let him rest as much as possible.”

“Yeah.”

“Let the nurses know if you need any assistance. I or one of the other doctors will be back to check on him later. We’ll be examining him regularly to make sure the bleeding is under control.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor nodded and left. Yutong let himself drop back into the chair. At some point he’d fallen asleep in an incredibly uncomfortable position.

* * *

Thanks to the port in the IV, Zhan Yao didn’t wake when they drew his blood, but it was a little more alarming that the regular abdominal exams didn’t wake him either.

At some point, deep in the night, there was a flurry of nurses and doctors around Zhan Yao and some discussions that involved hematocrits and the possibility of surgery. Yutong was fairly sure he didn’t breathe the entire time. Finally, one of the nurses paused long enough to nod at him. “We’re just being cautious. He’s okay.”

It was very early in the morning when Yutong looked over and saw Zhan Yao’s eyes open and watching him. “Damn Cat,” Yutong said, his voice sounding scratchy. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Mouse, you worry too much.” Zhan Yao rolled his eyes and tried to sit up, pain contorting his face. 

Yutong grabbed his shoulders. “Stop, damn it! If you start bleeding again, you’re going to end up in surgery.” He carefully raised the head of the bed enough that Zhan Yao would stop moving so much.

“So…bleeding?” Zhan Yao said when Yutong had finished fussing over him and adjusting pillows and blankets.

“Internal injuries. To your liver.” Yutong crossed his arms. 

“Ah. Yes.” Zhan Yao frowned.

“If you ask how soon you can get out of here, I’m going to tie you to the bed personally.”

Startled, Zhan Yao looked at him. 

“You’re staying here while they keep an eye on your liver.”

“Okay.”

They were quiet for a little while, Zhan Yao closing his eyes.

“I called your dad.”

Zhan Yao breathed out a sigh. “What did he say?”

Yutong crossed his hands over his stomach, leaning back in the chair. Sadly, he knew exactly why Zhan Yao didn’t ask if his father was coming to the hospital. “Eh, the usual crap. I stopped listening at some point, right around where he told me it was my fault you were hurt.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Zhan Yao said.

“Ex-Detective Lan,” he said in his snarkiest tone, “probably wouldn’t have targeted you if he didn’t hate me so much.”

Zhan Yao started to laugh, then had to breathe through apparent pain. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said eventually. “He hates me as well.”

“Still—”

“Don’t. You know better than to listen to anything my father says.”

Yutong couldn’t respond, because Zhan Yao was right. All their lives, his father had been…cold. Odd. Swinging between distant and overprotective, sometimes in the course of one conversation. He’d never quite approved of Yutong as a friend, despite his friendship with Yutong’s father. Very strange man.

“What’s happening with the case?” Zhan Yao asked. When Yutong scowled at him, he raised an eyebrow. “I could use a distraction.”

“Fine.”

* * *

Wang Shao called while they were working through the details trying to figure out if they’d missed anything. “Luo Tian identified the target, but Du She resigned two days ago.”

“Not unexpected,” Yutong said, glancing at Zhan Yao, who nodded, acknowledging he could hear what was being said. “But we need to find him.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he hung up with Wang Shao, Zhan Yao had a faraway look on his face. “What?” Yutong asked, probably sounding harsher than he intended. “You have an idea, don’t you?”

Zhan Yao sighed. “It’s not my best idea.” Gingerly, he reached out for his phone and unlocked it, holding it out toward Yutong.

‘Zhao Jue,’ the screen said.

“You want to call him in for help.” Yutong managed to say it calmly, although it was a struggle.

Zhan Yao didn’t bother to answer.

“Fuck!” Yutong jumped out of the chair and started pacing back and forth at the foot of the hospital bed.

“I swear I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was the fastest way to get answers and save lives.”

Pausing, Yutong looked at Zhan Yao, trying to decide if that last bit was a low blow intended to goad him. Difficult to say. Zhan Yao could always convince him of things without any apparent effort. “You want him to hypnotize Jiejie. Put him on our side.”

“Yes.”

“You really think we can trust Zhao Jue?”

Zhan Yao shook his head. “I don’t know. But there are precautions we could take, even with me stuck in this bed.”

“Precau—he’s a murderer. A mass murderer.”

“I know.” 

Yutong leaned his forehead against a clean white wall, eyes closed and wishing for someone else to make this decision, but Chief Bao wouldn’t even consider it. “Are you sure he’s not manipulating _you_?”

Zhan Yao was silent long enough that Yutong turned to look at him, lying in the bed, still bruised and battered from Lan Chenglin’s attack. His heart twinged as he watched Zhan Yao consider the question. It should have been easy, but it wasn’t, because Zhao Jue was terrifying and unpredictable, even for a matching genius like Zhan Yao. Part of Yutong wanted to wrap Zhan Yao up in cotton wool and protect him from everything.

“I told you, it’s not your fault I’m injured.”

Yutong scowled at Zhan Yao’s faintly amused expression. “How do you do that?”

“Are you joking? After all these years, you think I can’t tell when you’re worrying about my health?” Zhan Yao shook his head. “You might as well write it on your forehead.”

“Go to hell.”

“Probably,” Zhan Yao said, his tone dry.

“Damn it.” Yutong took a breath. Then he took another. “Are you sure he’s not manipulating you?”

This time, Zhan Yao met his gaze squarely. “Yes. He wants me to work with him of my own free will, not through tricks.”

“You’re well on your way there, so that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Excuse me?” Zhan Yao’s jaw clenched.

“What about last week?”

“Last wee—oh, right.”

_Bai Yutong stepped back as their witness broke down in tears, gesturing at Zhan Yao to do something about it. Zhan Yao stared at him in disbelief, waving his hands to gesture a definite no._

_Yutong shook his head. What in the world did he expect him to do about a crying woman?_

_Finally, Zhan Yao took a tentative step forward, patting her awkwardly on the back. “There there.”_

_Yutong mouthed ‘there there?’ at him in disbelief._

_Eventually the witness calmed down and they managed to elicit the needed information about her son’s whereabouts on the night in question._

Yutong crossed his arms and snorted. “You’re a psychologist! Why are you so shitty at any human interaction that doesn’t involve making someone cry? And no, hypnotizing people to calm them down does _not_ count.”

Zhan Yao rolled his eyes. “It worked. She felt better.”

“That’s not the point!” Yutong threw himself back into his chair. “You can’t keep doing that to everyone who mildly inconveniences you.”

“I’m not—” 

“You are.”

Zhan Yao had the expression on his face that Yutong could only describe as ‘long-suffering genius.’ The most awful thing about it was that it wouldn’t look out of place on Zhao Jue’s face. Zhan Yao took a breath. “I’m a criminal psychologist, not clinical. I trained in how to understand the motivations of a serial killer, not how to comfort people.”

“But shouldn’t understanding people’s brains help?” 

Zhan Yao sighed, staring down at his hands without answering the question.

“Why’d you insist on criminal psychology anyway? I mean, but you didn’t have to go into this field just to get your dad’s attention.”

Zhan Yao snorted. “Good thing that wasn’t my goal, because I think he pays _less_ attention than he did before.”

“You’re still young. You’re smart. You could…go do something else.” Yutong was definitely not thinking about all the times Zhan Yao had been injured on the job, even before this. 

“Are you seriously trying to talk me into taking up some other profession?” His tone was incredulous.

“Not talking you into anything. Just suggesting. There are lots of safer things you could be doing. Even with a degree in criminal psychology. You could stick with teaching.”

“I don’t need—” Zhan Yao cut himself off and took a slow breath. “I’m not concerned about my safety.”

“That’s obvious.” Yutong snorted at the statement.

“Not,” Zhan Yao said through gritted teeth, “because I want to get myself killed, but because I’m sure you will protect me.”

“Oh.” Yutong blinked a few times. “But I mean, why criminal psychology? Why the police force?”

Zhan Yao stared at him. “You honestly have no idea?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I knew the answer, would I?” 

Zhan Yao’s jaw twitched and he briefly looked away before looking Yutong in the eyes. “You.”

“What?”

“I studied criminal psychology so I could work with you.” Crossing his arms gingerly over his chest, Zhan Yao stared past Yutong at the wall behind him.

Yutong saw Zhan Yao’s face reddening. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this information now that he had it?

“I’m not being manipulated by Zhao Jue,” Zhan Yao said in a transparent but successful attempt to change the subject. “Yes, I’m using some of his techniques more frequently, but it’s necessary.”

“I’m pretty sure he’d say the same thing.”

Zhan Yao gave him a flatly unamused look. “It’s not the same.”

“Then tell me what the difference is!” 

“I’m doing it to protect people, not use them as pawns.” Zhan Yao looked like he wanted to stand up and get in his face.

“Protect people by violating their minds?” Yutong was doing his best not to yell. “That’s a justification.”

“At least they’re alive.” He took a breath. “At least you’re alive.”

Eyes narrowed, Yutong leaned forward to stare at him. “What’s this about?”

Zhan Yao stared back.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Do you remember anything after Feng Jie shot you?”

“Feng J—what?” Yutong was starting to feel like he had whiplash. “A little. What does Feng Jie have to do with this?”

“He said…” Zhan Yao paused. “He told me that if I wanted to protect y—people, I had to get stronger. This is what I can do.”

Yutong tried to calm down, but eventually gave up. “You’re taking the advice of my ex-partner who _turned out to be a murderer_? That you should be more like our fathers’ old buddy who _kills people for fun_? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

Zhan Yao started to say something, but Yutong slashed his hand through the air. “Don’t. Just don’t.” He strode out of the room, not paying attention to where he was, nearly bowling over a nurse.

By the time his head stopped trying to explode, he’d left the hospital and was a few blocks away. Taking a deep breath, he looked around and found a small park on the street corner, with a thankfully unoccupied bench.

Yutong sank onto the bench, not even bothering to dust it off first, and put his face in his hands. This was too much. Too fucking much. He sat there as traffic blared around him, eventually pulling out his phone to text Qingtang to come sit with Zhan Yao and make sure he didn’t hurt himself further.

He needed to go home, he thought. Needed to sleep for a few hours and eat something and not think about the case or Zhan Yao for a little while. Walking back to the hospital, he retrieved his car from the lot where Qingtang had left it for him. He was going to owe his sister a lot when this was done.

Sighing, he maneuvered through the city on autopilot. It wasn’t until he’d pulled into a parking space that he looked at the building in front of him and realized he’d driven to Zhan Yao’s apartment, not his own.

“Fuck,” he said, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. The thought of starting the car again was too exhausting, so he dragged himself upstairs, standing in front of the door in a daze before he shook his head and let himself in.

He couldn’t remember what he’d left in the refrigerator, so it was with a sense of relief that he found a bowl of liangban, which he’d made with some beans and tofu skin and a few other vegetables that had been about to wilt. Grateful that he didn’t have to cook anything, he sat at the small kitchen table and made himself eat half the bowl before putting the rest away.

Showering and changing into a t-shirt and shorts, Yutong almost fell onto the bed. It took a few minutes before he realized he was expecting Zhan Yao to start arguing with him about pillows or blankets.

“Fuck,” he said again, very deliberately. How had he ended up in this situation? He’d wanted no entanglements but he was living with (and occasionally fucking) his childhood best friend while they were working together. And oh yeah, his partner was going to the dark side of a homicidal genius who was somehow tied up in their fathers’ business. 

How the hell had he messed up this badly?

Yutong wasn’t sure how long he lay in the bed before he fell asleep, but when he awoke some hours later after another dream involving Zhan Yao being hurt, he didn’t exactly feel well rested. Groaning, he rolled over in the bed and checked his phone for messages. An expected snippy message from Qingtang about babysitting. Several from the office with minor updates.

And one from Zhan Yao: Where are you?

He stared at the ceiling for a while before getting dressed and driving back to the hospital. The twins were waiting outside the room when he arrived.

“He’s been in a very bad mood—"

“Since you left.”

Yutong glared at them and went into the room. Qingtang sprang out of her seat as soon as she saw him. “He’s all yours,” she said.

Turning to Zhan Yao, Yutong raised an eyebrow. “You’re pouting,” he said in disbelief.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zhan Yao said.

“You are. You’re pouting like a child.” He didn’t say aloud that it was almost adorable.

Zhan Yao let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine. I’m back,” Yutong said. “Are you ready to call in Zhao Jue?”

Zhan Yao’s head whipped toward him so fast, it looked painful. “What?”

“Do it.” Yutong wasn’t even sure when he’d made the decision, but apparently he had. 

“You said—”

“I know what I said. Call him.”

Zhan Yao studied him for a long moment. “Why?”

Rolling his eyes, Yutong leaned against the wall. “Because I don’t think Zhao Jue will allow _you_ to get hurt.”

Zhan Yao just blinked in confusion.

Yutong clenched his fists. “Do you think I wanted to watch Lan Chenglin beat the shit out of you? Do you think that was fun?” He was nearly spitting out the words.

“No, I—”

“Obviously I can’t protect you, so maybe Zhao Jue will.” Lips pursed, he stared up at the ceiling.

“That’s…” Zhan Yao sighed. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

Yutong snorted.

“We’re going to save those kids,” Zhan Yao said quietly. “That’s what’s important here.”

“Yes.” Sighing, Yutong looked at him. “We’re going to save them and catch these criminals, because that’s our job.”

Zhan Yao nodded, his head tilted in the way that meant he was trying to figure something out.

“Call him.”

Picking up his phone, Zhan Yao dialed.

Yutong leaned his head back against the wall. Had he just saved Zhan Yao’s life at the cost of his soul? Only time would tell.

—end—

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the medical dialogue is borrowed in whole or in part from these sources:
> 
> —“Recognition and Management of Abdominal Injuries at Athletic Events”, International Journal of Sports Physical Therapy: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22893864/
> 
> —“Overview of abdominal injuries”, Merck Manual, Consumer Edition: https://www.merckmanuals.com/home/injuries-and-poisoning/abdominal-injuries/overview-of-abdominal-injuries
> 
> —“Liver Trauma”, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK513236/


End file.
